Screaming.

A/N: First go at a Doctor Who fanfiction. I hope it's okay. Kind of dark.

I've tried to make this one shot applicable to any Doctor with any female companion. If I screwed up, well, my bad. *Shrugs*. Actually, I think it technically fits only the ninth or tenth Doctor because of the reference to the Last Time War, but eh. Picture whomever you wish.

Huge thanks to Bad Wolf Jr for giving this a good once over, and to all the girls at the Random Doctor Who Chat forum for patiently helping me with details of the Last Time War and old!Who.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, though I wish I had a chance to take the TARDIS for a spin or two.

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"Can you hear them screaming?" A shadow passed over the young girl's face, and her voice came out raspier than usual. That was what first alerted the Doctor, making his head turn towards the girl to answer, but freezing completely when he noticed her eyes.

They were pitch black, with thick tears of coal-black liquid cascading from them.

Crying out in surprise, he flung his body back instinctively, cursing his reaction immediately. His companion's face shifted and contorted in response to the sudden movement, her eyes searching blindly looking for another sign of movement to direct it towards its prey: the one and only Doctor.

"No," he choked out, eyes widening as he watched his companion being possessed, helpless to do anything, let alone move. The shadows, he neglected to watch the shadows! That's where they came out, from the darkness, to leap at whatever moved. Movement meant death in this situation, for the demons were blind to still objects.

"Can you hear them screaming?" repeated the once jovial companion of his, her voice sounded like nothing human, totally possessed and lost in the darkness of the shroud. Her skin had paled and thick bands of an unnatural onyx black encircled her limbs, wrapping around them, manipulating them like one does a puppet with strings. "Everyone who's ever died on your behalf, can you still hear them screaming?"

The Doctor snarled, "Name yourself, you monster!"

"Greed," the name left her pale lips just as a mirthless smirk twisted at her features. "I am Greed." Her arm was raised, a pale hand flopping at the top in a sick imitation of a wave.

"Let her go! Your problem lies with me, not her!" The Doctor pleaded for her release, angry and despairing, but still remaining still as stone. Moving his lips was not enough to alert his enemy of his whereabouts.

"Ah, dear Doctor," rasped the shadow through the limp girl's body, "my problem is with every humanoid infesting my planet. They covered my world in cities, and took away the creatures I usually homed in."

Opening and closing his mouth, the Doctor was left speechless. Yes, he too thought that the humans invading this planet were thoughtless and severe, destroying the planet and stripping it of any valuables. But Greed and the other shadow-demons had taken it too far.

Shadow-demons were once known for their benevolence. Usually hovering around in spirit forms, there was not much fighting they wanted to get involved in. However, it seemed the loss of their homeland had ignited their ferocious, protective side, allowing them to freely attack and possess the humans, in an effort to drive the invaders out.

The Doctor could understand. Yet he would not condone the wholesale slaughter of the human women and children at the refugee camps.

Too late he realized he was shaking his head, becoming motionless instantly, but not before he felt a tickle in his mind, and a chilling scraping on his arms and legs, the first signs of being taken over.

Realizing that his cover had been blown, he quickly thrust his hand into his pocket, fingers searching the deep cavern blindly for his sonic screwdriver. Perhaps, with the right frequency, I can throw him off me! Gritting his teeth, his movements faltered as the bands began to wrap around his arms, only leaving numb fingers to slowly search for a tool to help.

A gasp left his lips unwillingly, hating to show weakness in front of Greed. Fingers brushed nameless items; pointy, dull, slimy, smooth; but none were the bumpy stick that he was looking for

"You think you can take over our lands? We will take over your bodies!" Cackled the dark looming shadow, who's arms were reaching from the girl and to the Doctor. The woman's shoulders slumped, a sign that some of the possessing monster was moving to from her its next target. He could only hope she was still alive.

The probing fingers were like icy daggers to his mind, inflaming where they touched, nimble with practice, expecting an easy takeover. Yet they were struck still with surprise as they ran into a barrier that was thicker and more impenetrable than any they had seen before.

"Ahh," it hissed—the Doctor stopped thinking of it as his companion for a moment—especially since its wintry tendrils were still probing inside his mind. "I got something before you blocked me out entirely. Such a vivid memory, buried so deep, but burning so brightly, like you could never forget it..."

His twin hearts faltered in their rapid pattern, and a different type of ice flooded his veins. "What did you see?" choked out the Doctor, beads of sweat dripping from his brow from exerting so much effort to keep the darkness out.

Instead of answering, the shadow creature used the girl to force out a gurgled chuckle, which sounded more like she was choking on blood. It was sound which he thought he would never have to hear again.

"I find it amusing that you call me a monster," it rasped using his companion's lips, the sound getting choppier and drier, indicating that her throat was much too tightly bound; not that the creature possessing her cared a bit, "when you yourself eradicated your entire race."

"No, no," protested the Doctor, his eyes widening, trying his best to stop himself from shaking his head in disbelief. "I didn't want to!"

"Tell me," the shadow asked with a trace amount of amusement coloring its usually dry tone, "can you still hear them screaming? The men, women and children of Gallifrey; can you still hear their cries of pain?"

When the Doctor remained silent, it pressed on. "Here I thought that Time Lords were invincible and peace loving. But you're as bloodthirsty as anything else! Do you still feel the blood pumping in your veins, the depressing exhilaration flooding your body as you think of your lost people, relishing in the fact that you ended everything dear to you?"

"SHUT UP!" yelled the Doctor, now being to thrash in the iron grip. "It wasn't like that, it wasn't my choice!"

"Lies," laughed the shadow gently from within his own head. "All things you tell yourself to sleep at night. Who was the one that made the final call, hmm?"

"There was no other option," growled the Doctor weakly, his lungs finding the pressure too much to breathe properly, his fingers moving more clumsily as blood stopped flowing to his digits.

Thanks to his earlier struggle, it had jostled his pocket enough that he finally found his sonic screwdriver, now frantically fiddling with the settings to free his mind and body.

Mindless to his success, the shadow-demon, Greed, taunted the Doctor some more, "All your fond memories of the beauty of your home planet, tainted by the fires of war and the sounds of pain and suffering from your people, never ceasing. You still hear their screams when you're alone, don't you? That's why you're always moving, always doing something, always trying to travel with company."

"Shut up," hissed the Doctor through gritted teeth, his thumb finally clicking the final piece into place on his screwdriver. A ringing shriek pierced the air as he turned on his screwdriver, the grip of the shadows loosening considerably.

The Doctor watched breathlessly as the bands surrounding his arms and legs drew back, and he saw his companion come back to normal, her eyes changing back, skin losing all their tattoo-like markings.

Not releasing his tight grip on his sonic screwdriver, nor did he turn off the siren, he stumbled over to check his friend. She was limp in his arms, but her bright eyes declared she was most definitely alive. Tears nearly escaped him in relief.

"What happened?" she slurred slowly, blinking and looking around the shadowy room, not realizing her face was still stained with inky-black tears. "I think I heard a voice ask whether you could hear something scream."

Raising one side of his mouth in a ghost of a smile, he nodded and while ignoring the puzzled look on her face, he replied in a quiet voice, "Yeah, I can hear the screaming. I always hear the screaming."

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A/N: I think it's a bit OOC for some Doctors and IC for others. :-) Which Doctor do you picture in this situation?

Reviews would be nice, considering I'm awfully insecure... Haha.

Cookies and milk for reading! :-)